


A New Rose

by Cosmokitt



Category: Phantom of the Opera (2004), Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 09:24:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 18,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20405416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmokitt/pseuds/Cosmokitt
Summary: Erik thinks his story is at its end when Christine slips through his fingers. He isn't prepared for the woman who he finds hanging by her foot in his cave. The heart break they've both experienced make them afraid to love again. Their relationship becomes more complicated then they ever anticipated and don't know if their tentative love can keep them together.





	1. A New Beginning

The Opera Populaire, once the most famous opera house in all of Paris, now reduced to shambles and a skeletal frame. At least that was all that was left when I visited it that day. Leaves that had blown in through the holes in the walls of the theater crunched beneath my boots as I made my way around the stage. The once blood red seats were charred and blackened; some closest to the stage were reduced to nothing more than piles of ash. Three years ago a chandelier accident had caused a fire to sweep through the Populaire, practically destroying its main theater and most of the general structure. I had promised myself that if I ever came to Paris I would see it; but now there was hardly anything left to see. All the beautiful carvings and statues that lined the domed ceiling were covered in ash and soot, tarnishing the metal from which they had been formed and making them rather sad and pathetic in appearance. 

I sighed as I climbed up into the stage, avoiding the holes that had been burned there. Other than those scars, the stage was very stable, and I was able to walk across it, staring across the remainders of the Populaire. I had always wanted to sing here; no opera house in Italy had been this beautiful or this large. The grandeur of how the building once was was enough to pale others in comparison, now hardly anything was left. 

My footsteps echoed dully as I strode across the wood of the stage, which squeaked slightly. I sighed again. Autumn light poured in through the holes, giving the theater an almost haunted look about it. As I stared down into the orchestra pit something sparkled and caught my eye. Curious, I braced myself on the edges of the stage and let myself drop down into the pit with a loud thud as my boots hit the wood. I scanned the ground quickly and discovered a small diamond just a few inches from the tip of my boot. I took the small jewel in my hand after stooping to retrieve it and I examined it, turning it over in my hand in interest. This must have been a piece of the chandelier, I reasoned. The diamond was rhombus shaped, and had a small hole at the peak of it. It was the size of my small finger when I did a side by side comparison, and I pushed it into a pouch at my belt as I noticed something else on the bottom of the pit. It looked like a fragment of burnt paper. Carefully I lifted it by its corners and examined it. It was a piece of a manuscript for an opera, the edges burnt away and leaving only a few bars on the page. I glanced around quickly, trying to recover any more surviving pieces of this mysterious opera, for it was not one I recognized. Sure enough after a few moments of searching I found a few more pages, enough to complete an entire song actually. Bits and pieces were still scattered and made hardly any sense with what I had found though. A black leather folder had contained most of the completed song, the cracked and dry leather protecting the pages within while most others were lost to the fire. Don Juan Triumphant was the name of the opera it seemed. I smiled at my discovery and I spread the pages on the stage before I hopped on it myself and examined the notes scrawled in red ink. 

As I read the notes a melody began to form inside my head, and I hummed it quietly. 

"No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy," I sung, "No dreams within her heart but dreams of love," 

"Christine," the voice rang though the empty theater but it was no more than a whisper. A voice filled with pain and sorrow, one that filled me with a terrible sadness and terror all at once. I gasped and I dropped the pages of Don Juan I had been holding and staggered backwards, my heart racing a mile a minute. 

"Child!" Said a stern voice, this time directly behind me. I almost screamed as I spun around, my heart rate increasing again rapidly. This voice had been a different one though, female. In fact a woman stood on the stage a few feet from where I had been standing, her hands on her hips and glaring at me. Her gown was all in black, with a silver brooch pinned at the collar, and her grey streaked hair was twisted into a braid similar to mine falling down her back. She had to be maybe 40 years old, but she showed surprising age in her face, for the space around her eyes and mouth were hung with wrinkles. 

"Well?" She snapped in a strong French accent. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just," I muttered, stooping and gathering the papers I had dropped before she could examine them too closely, and silently cursing myself for letting myself get startled. "Looking around," I finished once I had collected the manuscript. 

"It is dangerous, child," The older woman snapped, "you can break your neck if you are not careful." And she grabbed my wrist and pulled me from the stage as though I were actually a child. I yanked my hand from her grip and glowered at her. I was no child, but I was fairly short, just barely topping five feet, and thin which made me look younger than I actually was, and I noticed people had a habit of calling me "child". 

"I was being careful, and I am not a child." I snapped back at her, but I followed her from the Populaire nonetheless. 

"I better not find you lurking here again," she said waggling a finger in my face and still speaking to me as though to a daughter who had been caught with her hand in a hornets nest. Her black eyes flashed and at that moment she reminded me of an overgrown crow. 

"Why-"

"Just don't." She said quickly, cutting over me. We had made our way outside, and we were standing on the temporary boardwalk that had been constructed outside the entrance to the Populaire. 

"But-" but she was gone before I could finish my sentence, melting into the crowd people in the streets of Paris. I looked up at the building in sadness. I suppose I had no further business here, and I should be going to where I need to be. 

Where had the voice come from? It was said the Populaire was haunted, which of course was plain stupid-foolish, but someone else was in there... And who was that peculiar woman? And wasn't it strange how she had appeared right when a mysterious voice had spoken? I looked over my shoulder at the Populaire wistfully, wishing to investigate further, but if I did not get a move on I would be late! 

()

"Ladies and gentlemen of the cast," Monsieur Velluae said as he stepped out onto the busied stage of the Palais Garnier. Velluae was a stout man, with white hair and a matching mustache. He was dressed in a fine suit, his shoes so shiny you could probably see your reflection in them. I hung back behind him, glancing sheepishly around at the cast of the Garnier. They all blinked at Velluae curiously, waiting for him to continue. 

"I have few announcements, our leading soprano is taking the next two seasons off, claiming she has been working too hard," he waved a hand in the air as though that notion was ridiculous. "In her place however will be Madam Alanna Belle," Velluae said proudly, and gestured for me to step forward. I smiled at the cast, but they all peered at me suspiciously for a moment before they called greetings of welcome, and my shoulders relaxed. I let out a breath I had not realized I had been holding. A woman stepped forward with frizzy red hair and a freckle splattered nose. She held out a hand to me. 

"Alice Cara," she said as I accepted her hand. 

"Alice," Velluae explained as I released Alice's hand, "is second to you on the cast,"

"Pleased to meet you," I said with a smile. Alice grinned at me, her green eyes flashing. 

"Don't worry, I don't bite,"

"Most of the time," A man laughed stepping up beside Alice. He was handsome, with dark curly hair that fell just past his ears and dark brown eyes. "Rufus Darl, Madam Belle, I am the leading male soprano on the cast,"

Alice folded her arms and bumped Rufus with her hip, causing him to stagger sideways. 

"So Alanna," she said, putting an arm around my shoulders and walking upstage with me as the cast began to disperse. "How did you come to be at the Garnier opera house?" 

"I needed a job, and when I heard of a singing position available at the Garnier, I knew I had to audition." I shrugged. 

"Where are you from?" Alice inquired, "I don't recognize your accent."

"Tuscany, Italy," I replied. "But I have always dreamed of singing in Paris," 

"Well the Garnier is the best, now that the old Populaire is out of business," Alice explained. She patted the top of my head. "Goodness you are short,"

"Really? I didn't notice," I said with a grin. Alice nudged me on the shoulder. 

"Good, you can take a joke," she said with a laugh, "You'll need a good sense of humor if you want to survive with us! Our last leading lady was a stick in the mud, hardly left her dressing room."

"Mm," I murmured. I glanced around the halls of the opera house as Alice and I made our way down the corridors, which buzzed with slight activity. The walls were a bronze color, with silver candle brackets set at frequent intervals. The candles flickered slightly as we passed them, causing our shadows to dance eerily on the walls. 

"When does the season begin?" I asked. 

"In a few weeks, after we do rehearsals."

"Good..." I muttered. 

"Anxious to get on stage?" Alice asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Very," I nodded excitedly. "I used to sing with my father at concerts, but I have never performed in an opera, I was so surprised when I was hired! I didn't think I had enough experience."

"Your father was a musician?"

"Yes, a celloist," I responded. "But he died a year ago."

"Oh I'm sorry," Alice murmured, "My parents live in Britain, I came to Paris when I was 16 to learn at a performing arts school, and I have haven't seen them in years,"

"Well that is too bad."

Alice shrugged. "Not really, my mother is very nag-gy, my mother always has something to complain about; and my father, well I don't see much of him since he cares more about his profession than his family. It is nice to be out here on my own."

I nodded and we lapsed into silence for a time. 

"Well I am guessing you are tired," Alice said, shattering the silence. 

I nodded. 

"Well I can show you to your room, since you have the same as our last Prima," 

"That would be wonderful," I said stifling a yawn. 

It turns out that my room was also to be used as a dressing room, a bed on one wall and a mirror and table on the other, and a screen dividing them. I pushed back the screen and I saw that my bags had been brought here earlier and had been dumped on the two person bed. A blue coverlet was draped across the mattress and matched the walls of the room. I shoved everything on the floor, pulling a few articles of clothing from a brown suitcase that opened with a click. I hung a few wool gowns from the hooks in the wardrobe and a few silk ones. I did not like silk, it always made my skin red and itchy. I supposed it was some allergic reaction, but either way I preferred a stout wool gown, since they generally lasted longer than silk and was not as expensive. Of course though I would be expected to wear silk now, no matter how much it irritated my skin. Perhaps I could buy a longer shift to wear under the gowns...

I flopped onto the bed, after changing into a nightgown, and curled up under the coverlet. As I closed my eyes and tried to focus on sleep I could not help but notice that empty feeling in my chest. That hole was always there, eating away at my soul. I sighed and tried to get into a more comfortable position, and thought to myself before I drifted off into the unknown world of sleep, Perhaps my life will be better here.


	2. A Quiet Place

Erik slunk through the darkness of the opera house, sliding into shadows when he thought he saw someone at the end of a corridor. The Palais Garnier... It was minuscule in comparison to the Populaire, but he supposed since the “accident” the Garnier was now the largest opera house in all of Paris.   
Yeah, right 'accident' Erik thought to himself, scoffing slightly. It had been his fault. But truly it was the fault of those managers and the Vicomte, he had warned them... They should have seen it coming. Now he was forced to live like a rat, slinking in shadows and hoping not to be seen. If anyone knew that the Opera Ghost still lived, it would be mayhem, and Erik doubted that this time he would be able to escape. He cursed as a servant bobbed down the corridor holding a lantern aloft.   
He quickly slid into a room that he had his back to, and watched through a crack in the door as the servant walked past, holding his breath. It would cause too much attention if one of the servants was discover dead. He was about to leave the room when he heard a noise behind him. He stood stalk still, ready to attack if necessary. The sound was only a person breathing, deep breaths that indicated sleep. He turned to the woman sleeping in the bed, checking to make sure she was actually asleep. Her eyelids fluttered slightly as he watched her, and her face was quite beautiful, her features small and delicate, her pale olive skin making her look like a porcelain doll. He found himself staring avidly at her and he blinked, feeling like he had seen this woman before... Earlier today, at the Populaire! That's right; a woman had been lurking there, along with Madam Giry. Odd, that a woman knowing lyrics from Don Juan and Madam Giry were there on the one day he had decided to return to the Populaire... Very odd indeed. He was sure that this woman had not been on the cast during the days of the Populaire, so he had no idea how on earth she knew lines from Don Juan Triumphant! 

He tore his gaze away from her face and left the room silently, careful not to wake her. After hearing the words of his Don Juan sung with such perfection and beauty that he had believed for one shining moment that Christine had returned to him. He wanted to howl in pain at the memory, and he reached into his pocket and gripped the ring he had given her and closed his eyes for a moment as he was hit with a wave of emotion. Pain, regret, anger, sorrow... Wave upon wave of pain engulfed him. After three years he could still feel the pain as clearly as he had the moment she had walked away, leaving that ring to burn a hole in his palm. When he had seen that ring he knew that it would look beautiful on her, and once he had discarded the ring the Vicomte had given her, he had been able to get her a proper ring that would truly compliment her beauty. He had purchased the ring using the remainder of his salaries from the manager before the two fools Firmin and Andre. 

Erik kept moving down in the opera house, before he came to a locked door. He picked it in under a minute, and he began the journey into the catacombs of the Palais Garnier. It was cold and damp, and after living with the Giry's for so long he felt somewhat at home. 

As Erik turned down a passage he saw a large lake sunken into the bottom of a large cavern, with little pockets carved out of the stone walls. He stopped, looking around. He supposed this would do. He pulled a few candles from his pockets and lit them, setting them around the edge of the lake as he sat down. Large catfish swum lazily in the murky green water, making ripples on the surface. 

For two and a half years he had lived with Madam and Meg Giry, but he had never felt right being there, and eventually Madam Giry threw him out, and he had been forced to find a new home. He supposed that an opera house was a good a home as any, at least for him. He felt comfortable down here alone, with just peace and quiet. Of course it would only be a sanctuary; Erik would not pull his Opera Ghost stunt again. He didn't want to cause trouble, he just wanted peace. 

He had followed that woman back here, and he had waited until nightfall before he had entered the Garnier. It was a nice opera theater, respectable, but it was nothing compared to the Populaire. Most of his lair had been emptied, only his organ remaining. He did not want to stay there even if it had been left untouched; the memory of what had happened there would haunt him for the remainder of his days. Not that it didn't haunt him, that hurt feeling came and went, and most of the time he was able to block out those memories, and hopefully they would fade with time. He did not want to forget Christine, but he needed to if he wanted to stop aching. Perhaps he should let his heart throb with despair. It was what he deserved after all, for the pain he had caused others. He hoped Christine was happy. 

He would need to make this place a little more secure, so he could ensure that no one would find him here. 

()

I examined the pieces of sheet music before me, scratching my chin in though. I had never heard of Don Juan Triumphant, and I couldn't find another copy of it in the Garnier's archives. The hand used to write this music was scrawled, the letters thin and leaning slightly to the right and were not the product of the steady hand of a scribe. That being said that meant that this was an original, or the original. The music was sharp and brisk, constantly changing making this probably one of the most difficult operas I had studied. Alice came into my room at that moment and I glanced up at her before I returned my gaze to the pages before me. 

"Hello," I murmured. Alice sat on the bed beside me and pulled back her hair with a ribbon, looking over my shoulder at Don Juan. 

"Whatcha got there?" she asked. 

"I found this when I visited the Opera Populaire a few days ago." I murmured, pushing a few of the pages around on my bed. 

"What is it?" 

"An opera," I muttered, "called Don Juan Triumphant, have you heard of it?"

"No," Alice said, gingerly picking up one of the burned pages. 

"Oh," I twisted my mouth in distaste. "I found it in the orchestra pit, which meant this was being performed when the accident happened..." 

"Why does it matter?" Alice inquired, cocking her head. 

"Because I just moved to a new country and I have nothing to do," I said. That wasn't actually the reason, but I did give me something to do between rehearsals. No, the actual reason was to find out more about this so called 'accident' and the voice I had heard while I was at the Populaire. And I also wanted to find the rest of the manuscript if there was another copy somewhere. 

"I see," Alice said, "Just don't go near the Populaire again, I hear it is haunted." 

"You can't honestly believe that," I said, glancing up at her. "Ghosts don't exist."

Alice shrugged uncomfortably. I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to the music. Alice picked up another page and whistled through her teeth. 

"This music is brutal," she said, "How could anyone play this? Never mind sing it!" 

"The composer must have been doing this for years, writing music I mean, wow." 

"And there is no name?" Alice asked, grabbing the leather folder and turning it over in her hands, inspecting it closely. 

"Nothing. I suppose most of it was lost to the fire... Or maybe the composer wished to remain unknown." I shrugged, "My guess is as good as yours." 

"Well come on," Alice said, grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet. "It's midday and I'm starving,"

"Alright," I murmured, and I spared one last fleeting glance for the pages spread across my bed before I was pulled from my room by Alice.


	3. The Theif

Erik pushed up the trap door over his head, and flinched as it creaked, but he knew the room was empty. He lifted himself out of the hole and almost hit his head on the bottom of the bed. Once he had managed to pull himself out, he examined the room. It did not take him long to find what he was looking for; burned pages of his Don Juan triumphant were spread across the woman's bed. He gathered them quickly and tucked them back into the leather folder. He had not believed any relics of Don Juan had survived the fire, and it was incredible that this many pages remained. He scanned the room quickly, making sure there was nothing he had missed. Once his search was concluded he slipped back through the trapdoor from which he came and back into the darkened tunnel. A few tunnels under the opera house led to a few dressing rooms and other various rooms, though their original purpose was unknown to Erik. Luckily one of the passages led to the blonde haired woman's room, the one he had seen at the Populaire. He wanted to know how she knew of Don Juan, and now he had his answer. He was relieved that was all there was to it, she had simply found the pages... But what would she think when she discovered the missing pages? Well that didn't matter to Erik, as long as he had those pages he was fine. He needed to relieve the world of all evidence that the Opera Ghost had ever existed. Lightly he touched the mask that covered the right half of his face. Meg had returned his mask to him while he had been living with her, and he was glad to have it back, he felt almost naked without it. He had worn a mask of some sort for his entire life, and he wasn't going to stop now, even if no one was going to see him. Erik tucked the folder under his arm and continued walking.

()

"Alice," I asked after checking under my bed, "Did you do something with those pages?"

"No," Alice said slowly. 

"Odd," I murmured, I don't remember ever taking them off my bed after I left my room that day... Had they simply disappeared then? That was highly unlikely. I combed my room for them, but all I found was the first piece of burnt paper I had discovered first, which I had stored at the back of the wardrobe. Since it only had a few bars of music, it was a little useless. 

"Do you think someone took them?" Alice suggested. 

"That's how it seems..." I replied. 

"Who would have wanted steal a few pieces of an old manuscript?" Alice muttered. 

"I don't know..."


	4. Detective Work

I stepped on stage and I noticed a woman standing near a group of ballerinas, one I recognized immediately.

"Excuse me," I said, tapping her on the shoulder, and the woman turned to look at me. I was right; she was the woman I had seen at the Populaire.

"What--" she stopped, looking me up and down. "Oh, it's you," she said stoutly. She held out a hand. “It seems we meet again. Well I am Madam Giry,"

"Alanna Belle," I responded, accepting her hand. "And what do you do here at the Garnier?"

"I instruct ballet." She said simply, "And I hear that you are our new leading lady for the next few seasons."

"Yes ma'am." I said with a smile which she did not return. Her face remained cold. I bit my lip, trying to find something else to say, but I was saved the task of trying to make small talk with the woman by Alice.

"Alanna," she said, grabbing my hand, "we need to get you fitted,"

"Alright," I said, and I followed Alice backstage, pushing through the throng of busy cast members. There was something off about Giry, I couldn't put my finger on it, but I knew there was something wrong with her. Alice brought be back to my dressing room with a basket of pins and measuring tapes. She began to measure me, my height, around my waist, all the usual places.

"So you are a singer and a seamstress too?" I asked.

"Yep," she said, "my mother was in the business, and I was apprenticed under her." She shrugged. "It is also the reason Velluae keeps me around."

"You are a good singer," I said, and Alice smiled.

"I am not as good as some," She muttered.

"How long have you been at the Garnier?" I asked.

"3 years," she said. "I arrived around the same time as Rufus, and we were both casted almost immediately. Velluae seemed desperate for cast members since the Garnier was finally getting notice after the downfall of the Populaire."

"I see,"

There was a knock on the door, and I called "It’s open!" Rufus stuck his head into the room.

"How are you ladies doing in here?" he asked.

"Fine," Alice muttered, "I'm just about done doing her measurements."

"Alright then, Velluae wants us on stage in 10 minutes for our first rehearsal."

"Good," I said excitedly. "We'll be along in a few then,"

As Rufus pulled out of the room I turned my attention back to Alice.

"What do you know about the accident at the Populaire?"

"They say that the Opera Ghost caused the accident, and kidnapped a girl. That is about as far as my knowledge goes."

"Opera Ghost?" I inquired, curious.

"Yeah, it is said that he lurks under opera houses, stealing the souls of any who wander into his domain." She shrugged. "I wasn't there, so I don't know much about it."

The Opera Ghost? It sounded farfetched that it was an actual ghost, but perhaps it wasn't a ghost, but a person.

"Well enough ghost stories," Alice said, clapping her hands and jotting a few notes in a little journal she had been using to record my measurements. "Let's get back to the stage."

"Sounds like a plan," I said.


	5. Against Better Judgement

I knew there had to be something to these "haunted" rumors floating around the destruction of the Populaire, and obviously someone wanted me to believe I was being haunted. A strange voice when I sing a bit of an unknown opera, someone then stealing that opera... It was all just so strange, and my brain was telling me that I was reading into this way too much, but I was simply bored. Moments not practicing on stage was a waste of time. I just had so much fun during rehearsals, and I learned so much about the world of opera. But unfortunately we had the weekend off, so I was going to do some digging.

As I dressed that morning I wondered whether I was going to have trouble reading anything in French. I spoke fluently in French, but I had not spent that long learning how to read and write it. I considered bringing Alice with me, but I decided against it, since I didn't exactly want her to think I was totally mental. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and I stared at my face for a moment. My grey eyes blinked back at me, and my normally wavy blonde hair was pulled back into its normal braid, but I had left a few locks of hair to hang around my face. I ran a hand over my braid to make sure it was even and then grabbed my bag and left the room, slinging it over my shoulder.

One at the library it did not take me long at all to find an article on the Populaire accident, though most called it off as merely and accident. Finally there was one that caught my eye, the headline reading_ The Opera Ghost Strikes Again!_

_For years the famous Opera Populaire has been haunted by a so called ghost, making demands of the managers and enjoying opera from box 5, insiders report. In an attempt to finally catch this so called Phantom, a team of police officers was sent to apprehend the masked murder during the performance of Don Juan Triumphant, a show featuring for the first time on that night. However the Phantom, alleged murderer of Joseph Bouquet, was able to kidnap lead singer Christine Daae right from under the nose of the police. Once the Phantom had disappeared with the singer, the chandelier came crashing down on the audience, killing one and injuring others. The casualty count was just around 2 dozen. The singer then reappeared around an hour later claiming that she had not been hurt and the Phantom had let her go. A mob had formed by that time and attempted to find the killer, but they returned fruitless and the Phantom remains at large._

The article continued, listing the other people the Phantom had killed and the other crimes he had committed, but I didn't really care about that information.

When I returned to the Garnier my head was buzzing. What was mostly bothering me was the name Christine Daae. I felt like I should know that name, but I did not know from where. If she was a famous singer that was probably why, but something told me it was more than that. I put Daae out of my mind as I returned to my room. I stopped dead in my room as I heard the clunk of something heavy, as though someone had dropped a piece wood on the ground. I glanced over to my bed side table, and sure enough that small piece of sheet music was gone. I had purposely set it there, to test if someone was actually stealing those pages. Where had that noise come from? I moved my bed and peered at the floor, since that was where I heard it coming from. There was a line in the wood, as though a piece of it was separated. Curious I stuck my fingernails under the cracks and lifted. A trapdoor swung back, creaking as though the hinges were protesting use. My heart began to race as I looked down into the passage. It was dark, and I couldn't see very far. Why on earth was there a tunnel under my bedroom?? And why was someone using it? Something told me it was a bad idea to use this passage, and that I should go for the police. But where was the fun in that? Well fun can get you killed Alanna.

Against my better judgment, I dropped into the tunnel. As I made my way farther and farther down under the Garneir, I began to regret my lack of a lantern. I muttered angrily too myself, but I stopped when I realized the sound was echoing off the walls. What on earth was I going to do when I came to someone? I didn't have a weapon and I had little to no people skills. The truth was I didn't like people. Or being around too many of them. Then why had I joined the cast of the Garnier? Well I supposed it was because I have been alone for so long...

I saw a small light at the end of one of the passages, and before I could reach it something jerked me up by the ankle and I let out a high pitched scream of terror as I was hoisted into the air and left the dangle there by my foot.

()

Erik jerked his head up as a scream split the silence of his cave and he cured under his breath at his stupidity. Of course she had heard it! Only a deaf person couldn't have heard the ruckus he has made with the trapdoor. He kitted to himself and peered around the corner and saw a woman dangling there by one foot, a golden braid sweeping across the stone floor as she fought to keep her skirts up put of her face. If the situation wasn't so serious Erik probably would have laughed at her. She did look rather comical in that position. Well she knew he was here now... What could he do? He couldn't trust anyone anymore. He thought he could trust Giry, but he had been horribly mistaken.

"Hello?" She yelled, "I know you are there, so let me down!"

Erik hesitated for a moment. He couldn't cut her down and he couldn't reveal himself to her... Perhaps he could reason with her, and make up some dumb story about looking for rats and that was merely a rat trap. She would probably see right through him. What rat was so big that they needed a lasso to string them up?

"I know you have been following me. And I would very much like to know why."

Following her? More like she was following him. He sighed, and against his better judgment l, he stepped into the corridor and faced her. She gasped and let her skirts fall back over her face and she just hung there lumpy for a moment.

"You're him," she whispered, once she had uncovered her face, "you're the Opera Ghost."

Erik groaned, running a hand over his face. "Listen," he said quickly, "you can't tell anyone that I'm here."

"Oh?" She said stoutly, crossing her arms. "And why should I? Give me one good reason I should not run to the police once I manage to get myself down."

"Don't you think that of you could cut yourself down you would have done it before yelling for help?" Erik said dryly. She went silent for a moment.

"Look," Erik said before she could say anything else, "if I let you down, will you let me explain?" This was a bad idea, all of it.

"I suppose..." She said slowly, but she still peered at him suspiciously. He sighed, and he grabbed the end of the rope and lowered her to the ground. She climbed to her feet, brushing off her skirts with slightly shaking hands, but if she was afraid her face did not betray any fear.

"What is your name?" He asked.

"Alanna." She replied curtly, crossing her arms and glaring at him. She was very short, at least a head shorter than Erik anyway. Her cloudy grey eyes peered at him, and she seemed to have dominance about her, despite her height.

"What is your name?" Alanna asked in turn.

"That is not--"

"Well you know my name, so I should know yours."

Erik ground his teeth in frustration. "Fine. I am Erik. Happy now?"

"No." She looked him up at down. She couldn't be any older than 21 or 22, and yet she had a maturity beyond her years behind her eyes. What an interesting woman. Alanna tapped her foot. "Well?" She demanded. "Give me a reason I shouldn't report you to the police."

"What do you know of the Opera Ghost?" Erik murmured.

"That he killed people, and caused the accident at the Populaire." She said simply. "Are you the Opera Ghost?" She asked cautiously.

Erik nodded slowly. Alanna uncrossed her arms and held them at her sides in white knuckled fists.

"But I have come to the Garnier to take refuge, not cause trouble."

She sneered at him. "And what have you done to deserve refuge?"

Erik wrung his fingers in frustration. This woman was sharp. And that was not good if Erik wanted to continue to go unnoticed at the Garnier.

"Because I repent my actions. I just want to live out the rest of my life quietly and alone, in penance for my actions." He looked her squarely in the eyes, looking for the slightest change in her composure. Her eyes remained icy however, her face placid.

"And why should I trust you?" She said finally.

"I let you down, didn't I?" Erik said, "If I was still truly a cold blooded murderer I would have just done away with you,"

Her eyes softened for a moment, but they hardened in an instant. "I have no sympathy for murders." She said coldly.

"And you shouldn't." Erik agreed. "And I don't deserve it. All I ask is that you just leave me be, and I will do the same in turn."

"Why did you steal Don Juan Triumphant?" She demanded, hands on hips. "How is that 'leaving me be'?"

"Don Juan is my work. Therefore it is mine to take."

"You wrote...?" Her question trailed off and she looked wonderingly at him.

"Yes," Erik sighed. "Music is my passion. I wrote it a few years ago, and it was only ever performed once. It is the greatest sorrow for a composer. For his music to go unheard."

Alanna stared at him for a moment longer. "Well, can I have it back?" And before Erik could protest she said quickly, "It is really beautiful work, and I would like to study it more. And if you do, I promise not to tell a soul about you,"

Erik hesitated. He did not want to part with what was left of Don Juan, but he knew he had to if he wanted Alanna to keep her mouth shut.

"Fine," Erik said resignedly. "Follow me,"

()

Erik led me back down the tunnel. I moved forward, and I didn't realize that my knees were shaking before, and I tried to steady myself as I followed him. He was tall, and my head probably only reached his shoulder, and he had black hair than he had slicked back. The most peculiar thing about his appearance however was the white mask that obscured half of his face. Erik's eyes were also the lightest of blue that reminded me of ice. I almost gasped as I entered the cave, since there was a giant lake spread out across the floor of the cave; it was thirty feet in each direction, but I could not calculate the depth since the water was murky and green.

Erik said something, but I had been so engrossed with the lake I hadn't heard him. I looked up and took a step forward, but at that moment my skirts twisted around my ankle and I toppled into the lake with a scream. The water was icy cold, and it stung my skin as I hit the water. Gasping for air, I bobbed to the surface of the water, waving my arms frantically to try and keep my gown from pulling me under. I didn't know how to swim. I had never had the opportunity to learn when I was younger, and I didn't like water so I never really wanted to learn. I let out another yell as something brushed against my leg and I almost slipped back under the water.

"Something touched me!" I screamed with terror and I saw Erik walk to the edge of the lake.

"That would be the catfish."

"Catfish?" I squeaked.

"Yes, now just let me pull you out and--" he held out his hand but I shied away from it, despite my struggle to stay afloat.

"I can do it myself." I said, attempting to make my way over to the edge. I did not really want him to be near my when I as in the lake. I did not know how deep it was since I couldn't touch the bottom with my feet.

"If you say so." Erik shrugged and watched as I tried to swim the edge of the lake. Eventually I made it. I pulled myself out onto the stone floor, shivering and completely soaked. I had lost my flats when I had fallen in. Erik tried to help me to my feet but I waved him away and managed to straighten up, running my hands over my arms, which were covered in goose pimples.

"You should probably get out of that dress before you catch a cold." Erik muttered.

"A-and cha-ange into w-what ex-xactly?" I stuttered, my teeth chattering. I was not going to stand in my shift with him here.

"Hold on a second." Erik murmured. He moved into one of the back chambers of the cave and returned with a dress. It was a peach color, with a dark brown corset and lace ruffle along the sleeves and swooping neckline. The skirt was layered, the same lacy material bordering the bottoms of each layer. It was beautiful. Where had he gotten such a gown?

"It may be a little big, but I'm sure it will work," he said, handing the dress over to me. I took it and he turned away from me so I could change. I desperately wanted to remove my soaked clothing, so I accepted his offer and undressed quickly and slipped into the gown he had given me. It was loose at the shoulders, but once I had done up the corset strings it fit a little better, but I could tell the dress was tailored for someone taller than me.

"Alright," I muttered, and Erik turned around and stared at me. His eyes looked lost and unfocused for a moment, but after a second his face returned to normal.

"Where did you get this?" I asked, running a hand over the material of the bodice.

"It was actually a costume from Don Juan Triumphant," Erik explained.

"Oh," I said. Erik stooped and gathered my wet gown in his hands.

"I'll keep this until it is dry and then return it to you," he said, hanging the dress from a little notch in the rock. I nodded, not sure what I should say. He was the strangest man I think I had ever met. He seemed so kind a gentle, how could he possibly be a murderer? But of course it could just be an act. Or maybe he could truly feel sorry for what he had done... There was really no way I could know.

"Here," he said, roughly shoving the leather folder that contained Don Juan Triumphant at me. I grabbed it quickly, as though I expected him to jerk it away and made sure all the pages were accounted for.

"Well I suppose I should be leaving now." I muttered, rocking back and forth on my heels.

"Yes, I suppose so." Erik said. "And remember, not a soul can know."

"Of course." I murmured, not looking at him. And with that I left.


	6. Misunderstood Angel

I carefully checked the pieces of Don Juan triumphant to make sure that every page was still intact. When everything looked fine to me, I pulled the dress Erik had given me off and I quickly changed into one of my own gowns, wool this time, and it was my favorite shade of baby blue. I jumped as there was a knock on my door, and I straightened myself and opened the door. 

Madam Giry stood in the door frame, her arms crossed. 

"Yes?" I asked. 

"Velluae wants me to have you take a few ballet lessons, to work on posture and such," 

"Alright," I said and she looked at something over my shoulder and her face paled. She pushed past me into my room despite my indignant protests. She held up the black leather folder that had Don Juan Triumphant written on it in gold lettering. 

"Where did you get this?" She demanded. Her eyes were wild, her face contorted with rage. 

"That is none of your business." I snapped. 

"Girl don't be foolish," she growled, "now tell me, where did you get this?" 

I took Don Juan from her and placed it in my wardrobe. "That is my business Madam Giry," I said with a glare. "And shouldn't we be starting those lessons?" And I pushed her out of my room before she could respond. 

()

Erik heard the snap of the lasso and he jumped to his feet quickly. There was no yell of surprise, which meant the person had not been caught in his trap, or knew it was there. His face paled as he saw Madam Giry step into his cave, in a temper. 

"I thought when I threw you out of my home I made it clear I wanted you to stay out of my life." She snapped, hands on hips. 

"I had no idea that you were here," Erik said earnestly. 

"Then what are you doing here? Looking for a new Christine?" 

"What--"

"I know about Alanna, Erik," 

"It is not what you think Giry," Erik muttered, "It was an accident."

She glared at him for a moment longer, her arms still folded. "I don't want to hear anything from you; otherwise I will go to the police and let them know you are here."

"It will be like is I don't exist." Erik said quickly. 

"Well I need to go back up. Just don't cause any trouble." and she spun on her heel without a backward glance. Erik sighed heavily. So much for being unnoticed and unknown. Now two people knew he was here. Great. Two was too many, hell one was too many. He had been here for less than two weeks, and he was doing a great job of going unnoticed. Erik glanced at the dress hanging from the wall and smiled. He couldn't stop thinking about her since they had formerly met on the previous day. She was different than Christine, smarter and much more dependent than Christine had ever been. Christine had been maybe a year younger than Alanna was now when Erik had first seen her. Erik was unsure of his true age since he did not know his birth year, but he was pretty sure he was around twenty-eight years of age, and he knew his birthday was in the summer, he just didn't know a specific date. 

Christine had been young, it was true, and her mental maturity was that of a teenager, girlish and giddy, easy to impress and woo. She had also been easily frightened. Her mental state was just not prepared for Erik. She was better off with Raoul, who could teach her of the world and of true love, and he could give her what Erik couldn't: a normal life. Erik shouldn't have tried and force Christine to love him, but he just wanted someone to love him just like anyone else. For once he had not wanted to be the odd one; he just wanted something everyone else could have. Didn't he deserve love? The truth was no. No he didn't. Over the last 3 years he had had a lot of time to think about his actions and let his way of thinking change from the way the Opera Ghost's mind worked. He felt sane, but that didn't mean he had completely changed. He was still a danger to himself and others when his temper was left uncheck, and around other people who knows what he could do. Erik didn't know how mentally stable he truly was. But he no longer wanted to hurt people, to put them in pain just for his pleasure. That had to be improvement, perhaps. 

Erik sighed again. He seemed to do that a lot lately. For a bed he had been using an old armchair that was abandoned in one of the little cubbies carved out of the stone, using his cloak as a blanket. Erik could only guess when it was night, since he had not yet managed to secure a clock, so he slept when he was tired. Erik sat on that old dusty armchair now, but there was no way he could sleep right now. No he was just thinking. 

Curious, how Alanna would let a murderer continue to live under her feet just so she could have the music back. He supposed there was more to this woman that he had originally thought. What on earth could she possibly find interesting about those burnt old pages? Perhaps her parents had been music collectors or something like that. Still, it meant she had a passion for music. Erik ran a hand through his hair. He missed composing, he missed the Opera, it bore away at his soul more than Christine had it seemed. There was not much he could do down here. Perhaps it would be worth one more visit to the surface. Erik would certainly slip back into insanity if he did not have his music.


	7. Tales from Box 5

It was three weeks into the season, with our first performance in only two more weeks. I was nervous and excited. It was different than just rehearsals; people would actually see and judge... I just hoped I was good enough to fill this role. We were performing Los Huguenots, which wasn't so difficult, but my first opera would probably be the hardest. I was so very nervous. 

As I climbed off stage, stifling a yawn with a fist, I glanced up into the boxes lining the walls and stopped. I had seen a flicker of movement from within one of the boxes. It was small, and I wouldn't have noticed it if I hadn't been looking. I smiled slightly, and acting as though I hadn't seen anything and I left the theater. I then doubled back and moved up a set of stairs that led to the upper boxes. I was not surprised when I saw that it was box five from which I has seen movement. I opened the box and walked inside. 

"Hello," I said conversationally, and I heard a person jump from behind one of the curtains. 

"Goodness Alanna," Erik muttered, "trying to give me a heart attack?" 

"Perhaps," I said with a slight smile. "What are you doing here?"

Erik shrugged uncomfortably. "I couldn't go for much longer without my music. You know I am-was-a composer." 

"I see." I murmured. He was strange. Who would this man have a reason to murder? And why did he choose to live under an opera house of all places? I glanced up at him, at the mask covering his face. 

"You are an exquisite singer," Erik said after a moment. 

"I'm flattered," I murmured. "You still haven't returned my dress by the way," 

"Sorry," Erik muttered, not looking at me. He was looking over the stage almost longingly. Who was this man? 

"Why did you kill those people?" I asked after a moment. He spluttered at the question, jumping back in surprise. 

"What??" He demanded. 

"Just answer the question." I said tiredly. 

"It is a long story," Erik growled. 

"Well, I suppose I will have to make time to hear it." I shrugged, and I left the box before Erik could respond or protest. I would get to the bottom of this man. I was involved with him now; I might as well be thorough. 

"Where we're you after rehearsals?" Alice asked when I joined up with her in her dressing room several minutes later. 

"I forgot something," I murmured. Alice shrugged and took a bite of a sandwich she had made. Alice always had food with her it seemed, and yet she was still rather thin. Not as thin as most, but not fat by any stretch of the imagination. She looked healthy. Alice offered to make me one, but I refused, I wasn't very hungry at the moment. 

"You are awfully quiet." Alice noted, liking her fingers. 

"I'm just thinking," 

"Well don't hurt yourself," Alice laughed and I punched her on the arm, but I was laughing too. It was nice having a friend like Alice. 

"Is it just me, or is there something off about Madam Giry?" I asked, finally voicing what had been on my mind other than Erik. 

"Giry? I suppose... I dunno, she spends more time with the ballerinas than with anyone else, and she locks herself up when she is not teaching or helping the rats rehearse." Alice shrugged, "She only came to the Garnier several months ago. Goodness Alanna, how do you sleep at night? You always seem to be thinking about one thing or another." 

"I just tend to over analyze things," I muttered. And considering... I didn't want to think about that. "I would rather think too much than not at all, then that would make me a ballerina," 

"They don't care about anything other than their tutus," Alice agreed, chuckling. 

"And their hair," I added. 

"Of course," Alice said. 

I yawned, sliding off her bed. "I think I am going to turn in, I'm beat," 

"Alright then," Alice muttered. 

But when I returned to my room I realized that I was not alone immediately. Madam Giry was there, and she was digging through my things. 

"Excuse me," I snapped, my tempted rising, and she jumped, in one hand the dress Erik had given me and in the other Don Juan Triumphant. I snatched them from her quickly. 

"He has been here haven't he?" she demanded, not at all flustered to have been discovers looking through my belongings. 

"Get out!" I yelled. And I shoved her from my room. Honestly. I would have to see Velluae about her. Was it possible she knew about Erik though? I pulled the few pages of Don Juan free of their leather folder and sighed sadly as I looked at them. I wish I had the opera in its entirety, I didn't know anything of the plot, and this song was wonderful, but what was the rest of the music like? But of course it was impossible, unless Erik was willing to rewrite Don Juan Triumphant, which I doubt he was, but I was worth a shot to ask him when I went to speak with him... 

()

"Alanna," a voice hissed behind me, and turned to see Madam Giry gesturing me into her room. 

"What?" I asked in a normal tone. 

"Shush!" she scolded, "Now come here, I have something important to tell you," 

Begrudgingly I stepped into the woman's room. It was small, just slightly smaller than mine, but her room was painted black opposed to the dark blue of my room. 

"What?" I demanded. 

"What do you know about Erik?" she said quickly. So she did know. 

"Nothing," I said, which was mostly true. I hardly knew anything about him other than the fact that he had been the Opera Ghost and enjoyed music. 

"Oh really? Then why do you have Don Juan Triumphant and that gown?" Giry shot back at me. 

"I found those pages when I was at the Populaire, and Erik gave the dress to me when I accidentally fell into the lake, it is nothing other than that," I explained, supposing now was a good time to stick to the truth. "He told me he would leave me alone ifs left him alone." I shrugged. Giry's face softened and she sighed, putting a hand on my shoulder. 

"Just be careful, child," she said after a moment. "He is dangerous, and you would be best to stay away from him." 

"Your advice it duly noted," I said, smiling at her. She only wanted to keep me safe after all. She nodded in satisfaction. 

"Well I suppose you'd better be off, child." I wanted to chide her for calling me 'child' again but I thought better of it as I left. 

()

Alanna sat in silence as Erik concluded his story. Her face was blank, and she didn't say anything for a few minutes.

"Well," she murmured, "I suppose I misjudged you."

"Oh?" Erik raised an eyebrow. 

She coughed and pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "A year ago my father died. Practically murdered actually." She hesitated before she continued, not looking at him. "And my fiancé left me because of it. After my father's death I was a mess. I was probably not fit enough to marry, which was why he left me. At the altar." Alanna wiped her eyes and then turned her gaze on Erik. 

"I don't know why I am telling you this... But I just needed to tell someone. And I am concerned." She stood and began pacing. "Ever since I met you, I have had this infatuation with you. What kind of a man kills people, and then lets a woman go who knows of his whereabouts?" Erik watched her, his head cocked. She shook her head, continuing her pacing. 

"Am I too quick to believe your story?" She murmured. "Or to see more into it than is necessary?" 

"You don't have to-"

"Hush," She snapped, pressing a hand to his lips. Alanna's brain was clearly thinking about something, her beautiful face furrowed in concentration. 

"I can't just, you, I, oh what am I saying?" She turned away from him, crossing her arms and obviously frustrated. Erik was very confused. Women were confusing. Well some were. Alanna was that was for sure. Why was she even down here? Why did he feel the need to explain himself to her? 

"I need to go," she said abruptly. "I have to get back before anyone realizes I'm gone."

()

I pressed my back against the wall of my bedroom, breathing hard. I swallowed and pressed a hand to my forehead. Why was I so interested in this man?


	8. Point of no Return

"You have brought me, to that moment when words run dry... To that moment when speech disappears into silence..." I sung as I looked down at Don Juan Triumphant.

"You have a beautiful voice." Said a deep voice behind me, and I jumped. Erik stood by my bed, holding my wrinkled gown. "I think it is time I returned this," he murmured sheepishly. I smiled slightly at him and I stood from my vanity.

"Sing," I said.

"What?" Erik asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sing this, with me," I repeated, gesturing to Don Juan. He stated at me skeptically for a moment then sighed, giving in to me.

"You have come here," he sung, his voice deep and seductive.

"In pursuit of

your deepest urge,

in pursuit of that wish,

which till now has been silent,

silent . . .

I have brought you, that our passions

may fuse and merge -

in your mind you've already

succumbed to me, dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me -

now you are here with me:

no second thoughts, you've decided,

decided . . .  
Past the point of no return -

no backward glances:

the games we've played till now are at an end . . .

Past all thought of "if" or "when" -

no use resisting:

abandon thought, and let the dream

descend . . .  
What raging fire shall flood the soul?

What rich desire unlocks its door?

What sweet seduction lies before us . . .?

Past the point of no return,

the final threshold - what warm,

unspoken secrets will we learn?

Beyond the point of no return . . ." He cut off, and it took me a moment to realize he was waiting for me to continue. I had been caught up the sound of his voice. A person should not be allowed to have a voice that beautiful.

  
"You have brought me to that moment where words run dry,

to that moment where speech disappears

into silence, silence . . .

  
I have come here,

hardly knowing the reason why . . .

In my mind, I've already imagined our bodies entwining

defenseless and silent -

and now I am here with you:

no second thoughts,

I've decided,

decided . . .  
Past the point of no return -

no going back now:

our passion-play has now, at last, begun . . .

Past all thought of right or wrong -

one final question:

how long should we two wait, before we're one . . .?

When will the blood begin to race the sleeping bud burst into bloom?

When will the flames, at last, consume us . . .?"

I smiled and held my hand out to him.

"Past the point of no return," We sung, our voices combining. "The final threshold -

the bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn . . .

We've passed the point of no return..."

As the song faded I stared up at Erik, my eyes wide, chest heaving. Though it wasn't fear I felt, but awe. What a puzzle this man was.

"If I wasn't so short," I murmured. "I would kiss you." and as though Erik couldn't contain himself any longer, he wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me into the air, his lips meeting mine. I was stunned for a moment, unable to believe what I had just said, what he was doing! But after a moment my body relaxed and I put my hands on his shoulders, kissing him back. Never before had I been kissed like this, with such passion or... or... Need. His heart was empty, and it was obvious he just wanted to be loved. He put me down abruptly, backing away from my. I was still shaken from the kiss that it took me a moment to realize he had let go.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I shouldn't have done that..."

"Erik!" I said, but he had already disappeared into the trap door. I sat heavily on the stool in front of my vanity and rested my forehead in my hands. We had kissed. I had kissed the Phantom of the Opera. I must be out of my mind.

I shoved my bed out of the way and yanked at the trapdoor, but it didn't budge. Of course. How else was I supposed to get down there? Perhaps there was a simpler way. I just had to go down. That worked, until I reached a lock door that led to the catacombs of the opera. I examined the door, looking into the lock. I pulled a pin out of my hair and stuck it into the lock, but when I twisted it the pin snapped. I pulled out the remainder of the pin and began to peer inside the lock again. Actually a key wouldn't fit into the key hole. Something large and rhombused shaped had to be fit into the lock. Curious I pulled the diamond I had found at the Populaire out of my belt pouch and stuck it into the lock. I turned the knob and it clicked to my surprise. I pulled the diamond out with a nod of satisfaction.

I regretted not thinking to bring a lantern as he heavy door swung shut behind me and plunged me into darkness. I couldn't hardly see a thing, even after my eyes adjusted to the dark. I blundered along in the dark, running one hand over the wall. Finally I reached that corridor where I knew where the noose was concealed. I pressed my back to the wall and edged around it, and luckily I was able to make it to the entrance to cave uneventfully. Erik jumped as he saw me enter the cave.

"How did you-"

"Erik, you kissed me." I said, stoutly cutting over him. Color was rising in his visible cheek.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that," He murmured, turning away from me.

"But you wanted to." I pointed out. "And I think," I took a deep breath, "I wanted it too."

Erik spun to look at me, incredulity painting his face. Women were normally not this forward, but in a situation like this all formality could be set aside.

"Alanna... You know what I am, correct?"

"Yes, but from what you told me, your actions were of that of a crazed and desperate man, and not the man that stands before me."

"I can't know that," Erik said earnestly. "I could just snap without warning, and become who I was. My sanity is very unstable."

"Well we should make sure that will never happen, and add some stability in your life." I said, putting a hand on his arm.

"Why do you even care so much?" Erik snapped, pulling his arm away.

"Because in your eyes I see me." I muttered, and Erik stared at me. "I see a scared frightened core, who just wants to be loved and accepted, but doesn't wish to try because they have lost so much."

"I suppose," Erik murmured gruffly, "There is a truth in that...

"But Alanna," he continued. "When I was with Christine, I didn't know when to let her go until it was too late to fix all the damage and hell I had created. I can't let that happen again."

I sighed exasperatedly. "That you can recognize these mistakes means that you can spot them in the future, and prevent them from happening. And everything is different than when Christine was here. I am here willingly." I folded my arms and waited for him to respond.

"I really don't know about this... I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm a big girl," I said stoutly. "I can take care of myself."


	9. Try

Erik mulled the information he just gained in his head as Alanna left. He watched her as her gown whipped out of sight, and he sunk into that solitary armchair, running his hands over his face. He hadn't come to the Garnier to fall in love, but she was making that impossible for him. She knew that he had been a murdering maniac, and she accepted him and forgave him for that. She understood the hardships of his life… And yet… Erik couldn't let himself fall into that hole again, no not again.

She was just making it impossible for him not to love her.

()

I paced up and down my room, running my hands through my hair. I had been at the Garnier for almost two months now, and the first show would be in a few days, and I had to focus, but I couldn't. I hadn't come to the Garnier to fall in love. And then Erik shows up, and all my defenses are torn down in a single swoop. Why did I have feelings for this man? Did he even deserve a second chance? I shook out my hair with my fingers as I sunk down onto the bed. Erik. He was making it impossible for me to guard my heart.

Too much had happened in the past for this to happen to me again. I let them in, and they tore me down from the inside. Those walls had been put there for a reason. But when I was pierced by those beautiful blue eyes they crumbled, and when our lips had touched they had been blown away completely. It hurt. All of it. I never wanted any of this. Courting the Opera Ghost?

His name is Erik, I thought, you didn't even know he was the Opera Ghost until you read that article.

There was a knock on my door and I jumped.

"Alanna," It was Rufus. I stood, pulling my disheveled hair back into a quick braid. I grasped the latch on the door and swung it open. Rufus stood there, his curly dark hair tucked behind his ears, his brown eyes twinkling.

"Hello," I murmured, smiling at him.

"Hey Alanna," He said putting a hand on the door frame. "I was told to come and make sure you were alright, you missed rehearsals this morning,"

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, pressing a hand to my mouth.

"It's alright," Rufus reassured me, "I was just checking in."

"I just slept in, that's all…" I actually had forgotten, since I had gone down to see Erik.

"Just make sure you show up tomorrow," Rufus said with a nod of his head.

"I will," I said quickly.

"Have you seen Alice?" Rufus asked. I shook my head, my braid swinging.

"Alright then, take care," He replied, pulling out of the door way. I waved at him as I closed the door. I let out a breath as I let my hand fall away from the door. Missing rehearsals wasn't like me… I was just so confused. I turned to my vanity, bracing my hands against the edge of it.

"Alanna?"

I spun on my heel and I saw Erik standing there.

"Erik," I responded, keeping my voice cool, ignoring my racing heart.

"Do you think we can give this a try? You and me?"

I bit my lip, and I hesitated, but my heart was already screaming my answer.

"I know that you probably deserve better than me," Erik said quickly, "but if you are willing…" He cut off.

"Alright. I suppose we can."


	10. Potential

"Congratulations everyone on a perfect first performance!" Velluae intoned, clapping his hands as the curtains closed, concealing the eager audience. "Great job everyone!"

Alice clapped me on the shoulder and I grinned at her. "You did amazing!" Alice said.

"I was so nervous," I said, in fact my heart was still pounding. "I was so sure I was going to make some mistake."

"It will be like that for the next couple of nights, but you are a natural! I wouldn't worry about it if I were you."

"Thanks," I smiled. Oh the joy of going onstage for the first time, the rush when the music started up, and that single moment before you open your mouth and you know what to do, and everything around you just melts away. The rest of the cast dispersed from the stage, still chatting, but Alice and I hung back for a moment. I sighed as I heard the audience leaving the theater, talking avidly about the performance they had just seen. I wanted to sing again, to let my soul run free like it had.

"Come on," Alice said, tugging on my arm, and I followed her offstage.

When I arrived in my dressing room, I noticed a rose on my vanity. It was a white rose, tied with a red ribbon. I smiled as I picked it up. No need to ask who this was from.

"Who is that from?" Alice asked, plucking the rose from my hands and examining it, as though hoping to find a note attached to it.

"Probably a secret admirer," I teased, taking back my flower.

I waited as Alice left, and sure enough Erik showed up.

"You were wonderful tonight." He said with a small smile. My eyes traveled to the white mask concealing half of his features. His hard angular face softened whenever he looked at me, and he seemed changed since I had first met him. He had his own walls around his heart, I could tell. It would just take time to pull them down. It was odd, being with him. And it was even weirder to know I had to keep it all a secret.

"Thanks," I beamed at him. "And thank you for this," I lifted the rose. Pain flashed behind his eyes for a moment, and he swallowed hard as he stared at the rose. It only lasted a moment, and he was looking at me again.

"Are you alright?" I asked. He blinked.

"I'm fine," He muttered gruffly. I reached up and put a hand on his shoulder. The corners of his mouth twitched and he laid a hand over mine.

"I had better be going," He murmured.

"Alright," I said. And he was gone. Slipping away under that trap door. We couldn't meet here, since Alice was all too prone to walking in unannounced. I sighed, sinking onto the bed, twirling the rose between my fingers.

Erik paced up and down beside the lake. How could he do this? How could he do this to Alanna? He just couldn't help it. And she wasn't helping him try and push her away. She was beautiful, her grey eyes, her slim figure, her golden blonde hair… He simply couldn't get her out of his head. But he felt like he was betraying Christine.

It was crazy how much different she was from Christine… and yet… Erik kicked a stone into the water and watched the ripples spread across the surface. He was crazy. What good could possibly come out of a relationship with Alanna?


	11. Secrets

I sat on the edge of my bed, swinging my legs back and forth and staring at my feet. I desperately wanted to talk to someone, to Alice, anyone. But I couldn't. Because Erik had practically sworn me to secrecy. It was lonely, all these secrets. I didn't want to fall in love only to become lonely all over again. Was I truly in love, or was I just trying to find a replacement for the gaping hole in my chest? I didn't want to be quick to fall into a relationship that would only end in heartbreak. And what else could come out of loving the Opera Ghost? Perhaps it was all just going to my head, the thrill, the mystery… Maybe I was just letting it go to my head.

I hated this. The uncertainty. The secrecy. The loneliness. Why couldn't I just be a normal girl, with normal lovers? Nothing about my life was normal.

I stood, and I picked up a letter on my vanity I had refused to open, and I still refused to do so. Amethyst was written in the middle of the envelope, and I tore it right down the center. I didn't even know how she had managed to find me. I didn't want to read anything she had to say.

I threw the letter into a bin next to the vanity, biting my lip. What if I was just a replacement? I should never have trusted him… Or was I just being stupid? I trusted people that I should have been able to trust and look where that got me.

I sighed, running my fingers through my hair, loosening my braid and pulling it free.

Why couldn't I be normal?

Erik and I had our first fight. It was last night after the show.

I glanced up at Erik, who was staring at me with an odd expression on his face. Concern maybe? I hadn't said anything to him, and I was quiet, which normally I wasn't.

"Alanna, is something on your mind?"

"Am I just a replacement for Christine?" I blurted out.

"What?" Erik asked.

"Is that all I am?"

And from there it had just gone downhill. I hated the way this relationship seemed to be going, but I found it hard to break away from him. Maybe if I just left this whole thing would…

My thoughts were cut off abruptly. "Runaway Alanna, it's what you always do…" But why did I always find myself in positions where I had to run? I'm tired of running, acting the coward. Maybe it was Philippe who hadn't pulled through in our engagement, maybe it was me. Was I too quick to blame others? I ran from Italy. I ran from my family. I continue to run from the pain. Maybe that was why I had chosen to be with Erik so quickly, because I wanted to prove I could get this right, that I could fix his heart and make him happy. Make us both happy. Damn, I just want to get one thing right in my life.


	12. A Proposal

I lifted my head from my pillow, squinting through the darkness and listening hard. I was sure I could hear the sound of a piano playing, but it was so faint it could be my imagination. I stood from the bed and rubbed my eyes as I moved to the door and stuck my head out. The sound had vanished. But as I closed my door the piano was back. Surly not…

Oh yes indeed. As I moved down the tunnel down to Erik's domain, the playing grew louder. I stepped into his cave and saw an old piano propped against one wall, and Erik playing furiously. Though his hands appeared to be rough and angry, the music was sad and slow. His eyes were closed, as though he knew the song well enough by heart he did not need his eyes. I stepped tentatively toward him, and sat beside him on the bench.

"Where did you get this?" I asked quietly, but loud enough so he could hear me.

"For me to know and you to never find out." He replied, not breaking his string of music.

"Don't you think someone will notice if a piano is missing?" I accused, crossing my arms and raising an eyebrow.

He sighed, putting his hands on top of the piano to stop his playing. "I had to get it out of my system." He muttered. Erik shook his head and placed a hand over his mask.

"Do you know," He continued, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. "how I knew that you weren't just a filler, looking for 'a maiden to dangle of my knee'?"

My cheeks turned bright red at this. That wasn't my proudest moment, telling him that.

"I know you can't stand the secrecy, and the hiding, and you deserve better than anything I can give you."

That confession of mine had come out during our argument as well.

"But when I met you, every emotion I felt flooding through me after seeing you, it, you, inspired me. For 3 years, my music was lost, because of Christine. My music is the most important thing to me. And I can write again, play again, all because of you. You are my muse Alanna, and you brought me back from the depths. These months with you have been-" He cut off, sighing. "You are the most important thing to me Alanna. You are so different from Christine, but what my heart needs. That is why I beg you to love me, even though I don't deserve it. I truly don't. Eventually, I want to shed the secrets, and become a man, you make me want to be a real man, Alanna." He sucked in a shaky breath. "But something still nags at me." Erik gestured to his face. "This."

I had never asked about the mask, and to be frank I had never really cared. It was his preference, he wanted to wear it. But I had never considered that he might have been hiding something. I cocked my head and waited for him to continue.

"I know if I show you that it could come between us, but I don't want to keep secrets. Just please…" His voice faltered, and I was utterly confused. What on earth could be under that mask that was so awful? His fingers twitched as they neared the mask, and he pulled his hand away, shaking his head.

Slowly, I raised my hands and pulled the mask from his face with delicate fingers and almost dropped the mask in shock as I stared at his face. His handsome features were distorted and diseased, his blue eye sunken in, the flesh around it rotting. He blinked at me as I tried to compose myself. What could I say? Oh you're ugly? So I did the only thing I could; I put my hand on his face and kissed him. His shoulders seemed to sag with relief as I placed my other hand on them, and he placed his hands on my waist. I wondered if there was getting used to his face… But I wasn't going to be so shallow as to walk away based on looks.

"I love you," he whispered, "I love you so much."

I pulled away from him as my heart began to race faster. The words stuck in my throat. I couldn't say it. I couldn't risk having my heart broken again. If I said the words, it would seal me to him, it would confess to myself that I did indeed love him.

"I love you," I said in a barely audible whisper. My heart was beating in approval, but my brain was saying otherwise as it went numb at his next words.

"And I don't see spending my life with anyone else. Your very presence heals my heart." He pulled the mask from my hands and replaced it over his face. He gripped my hands.

"What are you saying?' I whispered.

"Marry me, Alanna."

My brain had defiantly decided to stop working.

"You don't know me Erik, the real me." I whispered.

"Then let me know you." He said earnestly. He put a hand on my cheek. "It doesn't have to be now, just make me this promise. Please."

I did not know what I could possibly say. So I said the only thing I could.

"I can't, Erik."


	13. Head and Heart

"Alanna, are you okay?" Alice asked, one night after a performance. I jerked.

"No." I confessed.

"What's wrong?" She pressed, straightening her gown.

"The season's almost over… And it's only a few more months until I have to leave." I shrugged. And of course there was Erik, but I didn't want to talk about that.

"You still have a whole other season," Alice pointed out. "In December,"

"I know." I murmured.

We entered my dressing room, and I sighed as I picked up a white rose on the vanity, which was tied with a red ribbon. Erik.

"Oh, a secret admirer?" Alice asked, plucking the rose from my hands and examining it.

"Maybe." I yawned.

Alice was anxious to learn more about the rose, but I finally managed to usher her out. I sat heavily on my bed, twirling the rose between my fingers. The trapdoor creaked and I sprang off my bed as Erik emerged.

"Erik-" I said, placing my hands on my hips.

"When I was twelve, I ran away from home," Erik said, cutting over me, "I spent most of my years after in a gypsy fair. I was rescued, and I lived in the Populaire until I was nineteen before I went to Persia for 3 years and returned after I was prosecuted with a murder I did not commit. I was impulsive and obsessive, and music drove anything I did. These are 7 things I have never told anyone else. 7 things only you know, that I trust you with. I want to know you, I'm letting you know me. There isn't anything you could have done or that you could be that can be worse than what I have done." He spread his hands helplessly. "But that excuse won't keep me away forever. I let you in, and there is no way I'm letting you out."

I made myself look him in the eye, and I could see seriousness in his icy gaze. I swallowed hard and blinked at him.

"I am sure that you deserve more than I can give you as a husband," He admitted. "but I want to be a normal man. And I think you are the only one who can give me a chance at that."

"Erik," the words I had prepared in response to push him back caught in my throat. Maybe I didn't want to push him away. But I knew somewhere, that if I didn't, I would have to pay eventually.

"Please, Alanna," He held out his hand, opening his palm to expose a glittering diamond ring. I pressed a hand to my lips and looked up at him. What could I say? What could I do?

Yes, Alanna, bind yourself to the Phantom of the Opera, why don't you? Great idea! But despite what I was thinking, I wanted nothing more than to accept the ring.

"Oh Erik." I murmured. My brain and my heart were at war.

I took in a deep breath, and murmured, "Yes."

Erik smiled and stooped down to kiss me. He had to stoop, considering my height. I sighed as he pulled away. I still wasn't sure whether or not I had made the right decision.

()

The last day of the season was finally here, the last show. These last months had really flown for me, and I don't think so much had ever happened in the space of 6 months, well within the last year or so. My life was anything but boring apparently, and it would be so much easier for me if it was easy.

The last show of the season was on the first day of December, then we would spend the next few weeks preparing for the new opera. Normally there were a few months off for the cast between seasons, but Velluae was very excited and insisted that we start the new season right away. He was had something up his sleeve. Snow had started falling and coating the opera house. I liked snow, it was calm, soft. The opposite of my life.

I twisted Erik's ring around my finger as I sat alone in my room, waiting for Alice so we could prepare for the opera. I shook my head as I pulled it off my finger and concealed it in a drawer of my vanity. I traced my nails over the painted white wood, slightly irritated. Erik didn't want anyone to know of our engagement just yet. I suppose he wanted to make it easier for me, because if I waltzed around the opera house with an engagement ring, people would be asking questions I couldn't answer. I can imagine that conversation.

"Who gave you the ring?"

"Oh you know, the Phantom of the Opera."

Okay I wouldn't say that, but people would want to meet him and it would probably become more complicated than it was worth. Better if I just didn't wear it. I gave an exasperated noise and hit my forehead on my vanity.

"Problem?" Alice asked, looking at me curiously as she entered my room. I lifted my head and rubbed my forehead.

"No." I muttered. Alice rolled her eyes at me.

"Come on, Ala, let's get ready."

"Don't call me that," I snapped, with more ferocity than was necessary.

"Sorry," Alice said, raising her hands in a defensive gesture. I folded my arms and glared at my rubbish bin, where that letter I had thrown away was hiding. I did not have servants in my room every often, in case Erik was hanging around, so the bin did not get emptied very often, not that I had much to throw away.

"Can I call you 'Nana' then?" Alice said with a grin. That got her a face full of pillow.


	14. One Soul

Erik smiled down at Alanna as she stepped onstage and began to sing, and he closed his eyes, just letting her voice wash over him. He stood in the rafters of the stage, cleverly concealed from the eyes of the scene-shifters, so he could watch the final performance of the season.

The act ended, and the crowd clapped, and in the moment the shifters were busied with getting the curtain closed, Erik slipped away.

Erik toyed with the rose in his hands as he waited for Alanna, after making sure that she was returning to her bedroom alone, accidentally pricking one finger on a thorn. He snapped it off with distain, realizing he had missed one as he sucked his finger for a moment. Alanna then swept into the room, running her hands through her blonde hair. She twisted it into a braid as she smiled at him. She ran her hands over her skirts, which were a powdery blue color, as she sat beside him on her bed she snuggled into him, yawning.

"I'm tired." She muttered. And she stood, grabbing his hand. "Come on."

"I thought you were tired,"

"Yes, but I like it down there, it is more private." She said, and Erik stood, shaking his head. She had practically moved into his cave. Not that he minded. He actually had a bed now.

"Fine." He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and led her down the tunnels. Once they had entered the cave, she changed into one of his white shirts. She had nightgowns, but she claimed his shirts were more comfortable. She had had to buy him more clothes after she discovered this. The fabric clung to her figure and fell almost past her knees. She paced up and down the lake, despite her yawning. Erik watched her from a place in his musty old armchair, an eyebrow raised.

"You're making me tired just by looking at you," he said.

"I'm just thinking about something." She muttered.

"About what?"

She shook her head and sighed. Erik stood, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to his chest. She turned in his arms to look up at him, and unable to stop himself, he lifted her, bringing her lips against his. She put her hands on his shoulders, then wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing her body closer to his. Erik lost himself in her, the smell of her hair, the feel of her body in his hands and against his. Everything fell away and it was just her and Erik, locked in their passionate embrace. Erik could not feel the pain in his chest, the hole Christine had left behind, it was gone, filled, and only Alanna filled his heart, his head, his soul.

()

I was aware that I was alone in Erik's bed when I awoke the next morning, rolling over in the soft blankets and watching Erik, who was sitting beside the lake, tossing pebbles into the water. He was clothed again, including his mask. I picked up the shirt that has been discarded on the ground and pulled it back on over my body. Yawning, I stood, walked to his side, and sat down.

"Morning," I said, a little awkwardly, my cheeks burning red. He only gave a muffled noise and didn't look at me.

"What's wrong?" I asked tentatively.

"Nothing," he murmured, and I folded my arms under my breasts, peering at him suspiciously.

"You are a terrible liar," I chided, and Erik shook his head, looking back over the water.

"I never think before I act." He growled under his breath. "I feel as though I have taken advantage of you."

I sighed. After had happened, I had feared a response like this.

"Do I look like a woman who can be taken advantage of?" I retorted, crossing my arms.

"No Alanna, it is just... I shouldn't have done that."

"We." I corrected him, and Erik raised an eyebrow. "The blame for what happened last night cannot fall onto your shoulders, it shouldn't and it won't."

"I should have known better than to-" he swallowed, scratching his head. "It shouldn't have happened, and I shouldn't have allowed it."

I opened my mouth to retaliate when I realized how late it must be.

"Velluae is announcing the new opera today," I squeaked, scrambling to my feet. I grabbed the gown I had worn last night and hurried back up the rest of the world.


	15. A Ghost

"Erik!" I called as I entered his cave, holding a stack of papers between my hands. He looked up from a book he was reading, Shakespeare, to look at me inquisitively.

"Yes?"

"Look at this." I said, shoving the stack of papers at him. He grabbed the stack, an eyebrow raised, and his expression darkened when he read the title scrawled across the first page.

Don Juan Triumphant

Anonymous

"What the hell is this doing here?" Erik demanded.

"I don't know." I shook my head. "Velluae said that the manuscript was delivered to him anonymously and he assumed it was a shy composer that wanted to see his work performed."

"Well we know that's not true." Erik growled. His hands tightened around it, crumpling the edges. This being my only copy, I prized it from his hands before he could rip it.

"Who could have given it to him?" I asked, sitting on his lap and looking at the manuscript.

"It seems odd, too odd to be coincidental." Erik muttered, running a hand over his chin in thought. "I mean the only person I can think of is Giry, but this seems the opposite of 'trying to leave me alone', and if was Raoul he would have the police here if he knew where I was." Erik shook his head.

Raoul… Surly it was a different Raoul, I thought to myself.

"I don't know." I murmured, crossing my arms.

()

"Alanna, are you okay?" Alice asked.

"What?" I murmured, jerking out of my doze.

"You look sick." She said, squinting at me. I closed my eyes again and leaned on my hand.

"I'm fine. Just tired." I murmured, stifling a yawn. I hadn't been able to stay awake all day it seemed, which was a bad time to be drowsy since Don Juan's first performance is tomorrow. Velluae keeps rushing us, and some of us weren't ready.

"Well you can't be sick, because the first performance is tomorrow, and you need to save the show."

"Why do I have to save it?" I murmured sleepily.

"Because you are the only one who has the opera nailed." She said.

I smiled into my hand. That was because I had been receiving help from Don Juan's composer. Erik has also informed me that the dress he had given to me all those months ago had been the original gown used for Don Juan Triumphant that Aminta had worn. He wouldn't tell me who was the first Aminta, but I didn't need him to. I had the dress tailored to my size (Since the woman it had been originally sewn for was at least 6 inches taller than myself) and now it actually fit. Except the skirts were still too long, but there wasn't anything we could do about that really.

"Don't smirk." Alice muttered.

"I'm not smirking," I yawned. For once we were in Alice's room, sitting in two latter back chairs in front of her vanity while she tried to make her unruly red hair actually behave. I tapped my fingers on the surface of wood and yawned again.

"You need to go to bed, big night tomorrow." Alice chided.

"Thank you." I muttered. I stood and went back to my room and found it empty. I collapsed into my bed and fell asleep immediately.

The next morning my head was pounding something awful. I groaned as I rolled over in my bed and grabbed the rubbish bin and vomited. Well I suppose I didn't have to worry about that letter. I glanced at the clock on the wall as I slid out of bed and hit my knees on the floor, still gripping the edges of the bin. It was already past 10. I had been out a long time.

"Alanna, are you awake?" Alice knocked on the door, and it seemed like she was pounding on it, causing my head to ring.

"Yes," I gasped, whipping my mouth on a handkerchief. I tried to push myself to my feet, but my legs felt weak and wobbly. I braced myself on the bed as I attempted to stand.

"You look horrible." Alice said as she entered my room and got one good look at me.

"I feel horrible," I groaned.

"I don't think you can perform tonight."

"I don't have an understudy," I snapped, pressing a hand to my head. "I have to perform,"

"You can't like this." Alice said, crossing her arms.

"I'll feel better in a few hours."

"Alanna."

"Velluae would have to cancel the show, and do you want to be the one to tell him that?"

"Not really." She murmured.

"I'll get some rest, and I'll be fine." I assured her.

"Yes, rest," Alice said, pushing me back into bed. "I'll be back in a few hours to check on you."

When she was gone and I finally thought I was alone, Erik appeared. Right when I was sick again.

"You can't perform today," Erik said, folding his arms.

"I'm, fine," I said thickly. I pushed myself up from the basin again and Erik helped me back into bed.

"No, you are not getting onstage."

"No I feel better, honest, I just need some rest."

"How did you even get sick?" Erik folded his arms. "Did you eat something fishy, or-" He spread his hands.

"I don't know, it's probably just a bug," I muttered. "but if I did eat fish, it would make sense, but I haven't."

"Don't like fish?"

I shook my head as I pulled my blanket over my body. My stomach was not churning as bad anymore. "Especially oysters, I can't keep those down for more than a minute."

I remembered one Christmas when I was young, when my mother had made oysters. A traditional Italian Christmas dinner is 7 courses of fish. Much to my distaste. My sister on the other hand loved it.

"I still don't want you to perform." Erik muttered.

"I have to, otherwise we will have to cancel the show, and I don't want to do that."

"You're too stubborn for your own good." Erik shook his head.

"You worry too much."

"Well one of us has to."

"I'm fine."

Why did I keep saying that? I mean, was I truly fine?

()

Holding my hair out of my face, Erik ran a hand over my back as I emerged again from the basin before me.

"You can't go on like this," Erik murmured.

"It's only, one more act," I gasped, trying to catch my breath. Concealed in a closet backstage, I had ran back here while I wasn't supposed to be onstage.

"This was a bad idea,"

"I know that," I snapped, "just please don't rub it in, I feel horrible."

"Sorry," Erik murmured.

"Apology accepted."

Erik flinched as someone knocked on the door, but no one entered.

"5 minutes Alanna," It was Rufus.

"Okay," I said. Rufus walked away from the door and Erik's shoulders relaxed.

I stood shakily.

"Just promise me you'll see a doctor when this is over." Erik said.

"I promise," I smiled at him.

()

I sat on my bed, looking up at the ceiling with a thermometer stuck into my mouth. My doctor, a tall thin man with greying hair, stood over me, Alice looming over his shoulder.

"How long have you been sick?" the doctor asked.

"A couple of days." Alice supplied.

"I can talk." I said around the thermometer.

"Well no fever," he said, yanking the thermometer out of my mouth. "I would suggest bedrest for now, and see me again if the illness persists."

"Yes sir," I murmured.


	16. I Kept the Secret Hid

Erik watched as Alanna stepped offstage, stretching her arms over her head as she yawned. It had been a month, and yet she was still sick, he was starting to get truly concerned now. Erik leaned of the rafters as he watched her, and he just about leapt from the banisters as her thin form crumpled to the ground. Heart racing, he watched helplessly as Alice yelled out, and Rufus came to her aid and carried her out of Erik's line of vision.

()

I opened my eyes slowly and proper myself up on my elbows, blinking a few times to clear my vision.

I was in my room, several people standing around me, including Alice and Rufus.

"What happened?" I groaned.

"You collapsed," Dr. Daws explained as he pushed past my worried friends and shoved a thermometer in my mouth.

"'ow long 'as I out?" I asked around the thermometer.

"A few hours," Alice piped up.

I groaned again.

"Alright, everyone out!" the doctor said. He herded Alice and the rest of the cast out of the room.

"Do you know what's wrong with me?" I asked eagerly.

"Yes, I believe I have successfully diagnosed you," he said, pulling the thermometer from my mouth.

()

I leaned against my vanity, bracing my hands on the edges. I hung my head letting my hair fall over my face. I knew it was only a matter of time before Erik realized that I was awake, but it gave me some time to think. How could I tell him? Should I tell him? He had a right to know, but what would he say, how would he react? I just didn't know what I could do.

There was the creak, and I heard Erik climb into the room. I didn't turn around, I didn't saying thing.

"Alanna," Erik said cautiously, putting a hand on my shoulder, causing me to glance over my shoulder at him. "are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I murmured, turning around and facing him.

"You were unconscious of hours," Erik said sternly.

"Honestly, I'm alright." I smiled up at him, but it was a false smile. I just couldn't tell him.


	17. Not so Happy

Erik lifted his eyes to the heavens as Alanna tugged on his arm impatiently.

"You're my fiancé. I want to be able to... I don't know, be seen with you in public?" Alanna sat down on her bed, arms folded stubbornly. Erik's face softened. He knew this was hard on her, but she knew what she was getting into when she agreed to marry Erik. He couldn't risk being seen in public.

"As the leading lady," she said, arms still folded in defiance, "I'm required to keep up appearances like the winter ball." She said. "And I don't want to go without you. I know being around people makes you uncomfortable, but... I've made so many allowances already. So what if I have to make one more." She said the last part with heavy sarcasm Erik did not fail to miss. He twisted his mouth as he stared at her, hands at his hips. He felt slightly bad, but no quite enough to make him give in to her request.

"What if I'm recognized? What then?"

"No one will recognize you." Alanna said, her patience waning. Her temper seemed closer and closer to breaking since each day went on. Since the day she passed out onstage, things had been different between them. Erik didn't know why Alanna was suddenly more sensitive to his not wanting to make any appearances in public.

"Madam Giry?" Erik retorted.

"If you listened to anything I said, you would already know that she's visiting her daughter over the holiday." Alanna snapped. Erik's guilt heightened.

"My mask...?" It was a weak argument, but it was the only objection he could dig up. "It's recognizable."

Alanna jumped to her feet, snatching the mask from his face angrily. "Then don't wear it!"

Erik grabbed her wrist gently, staring into her cold, gray eyes. "You know I can't do that. My deformities are as distinct as the mask."

Alanna jerked her arm away, huffing angrily. She handed the mask back before turning toward the door of her dressing room.

"Fine. Don't go for all I care."

Erik could tell this was important to her. Reluctantly, he stuck out his hand and grabbed her shoulder before she had a chance to leave.

"I'll go. Okay, happy now?" Erik muttered.

"I suppose." She said. "I just..." She muttered something and left the room. Erik was tempted to follow, but be decided against it. He cursed under his breath and sat heavily on Alanna's bed, face in his hands.

What had changed? Why was she acting this way?

Erik wondered if he were losing her.


	18. The Truth

Erik jerked the corset strings tighter around Alanna's torso. She seemed cheerier than she had been last night, and had even apologized for her rude behavior. Erik apologized as well. He struggled with the strings and he attempted to pull them tighter, but was met with resistance.

"Stop," Alanna said breathlessly as he continued to fight with the corset. "It's alright. It doesn't need to be so tight."

Erik had never had this problem before, since the corset, as well as the gown she was now struggling to squeeze into, were perfectly tailored to her body. He wondered if the stress of the last few months had caused her to gain weight. He pulled at the back if the dress as he forced the buttons into place.

"There." He said. And as he said it, something clicked in his head.

Alanna was as healthy as a horse, has had eaten very little in the past three months, and with as much stage work she was doing she shouldn't have been gaining weight. Unless...

He undid the buttons on the constricting dress, unaware of what he was doing.

"What are you doing?" Alanna said as he tugged at her corset laces. "Erik, this is hardly the time..."

He put his hands on her waist and turned her around so she was facing him.

"What is it you've been hiding from me?" He asked softly.

"Nothing." She said easily, but he could see the lie behind her eyes. His hands rounded her waist, coming to rest on her stomach, where he could feel the lump that didn't allow Alanna to fit properly into her gown.

"You're pregnant." Erik said softly. She bit her lip, which trembled dangerously, her eyes shining with unshed tears. He sat down on the bed, face in his hands.

"God..." He breathed. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

Alanna stood in silence for a few minutes, fists clenched at her sides, tears sliding down her face.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Erik said at last.

Alanna laughed bitterly. "How are you supposed to tell a fiancé who is afraid to be seen in public with you that you're carrying his child?" She said through her tears, voice harsh.

"I had a right to know!" Erik snapped. He pounded a fist on his knee, trying to remain on the bed. Alanna was only slightly taller with him sitting.

"I don't need to hear this," Alanna snapped, tears dripping from her eyes as she tried desperately to fix the back of her dress, fingers fumbling. "You aren't the one with a tiny human taking over your body! What you eat, when you need to use the loo, what shape your body is, causing you to hurl everything eaten before 11:00." She gave up on the dress and sunk to her knees face in her hands. "I'm scared, Erik! Scared you would leave me!"

Erik felt guilt for only a moment before rage took over. "Do you have such little faith in me?" He demanded, jumping to his feet. "Hell, Alanna, did you really and truly believe I would leave the mother of my child shivering in the cold?"

She looked up at him with red eyes. "Answer me straight and truthfully." She said. "Do you want children?"

Erik didn't hesitate. "No."

She stood shakily. "And you accuse me of having no faith in you. How the hell can I have any faith in a man who doesn't want his own child?" She shoved a finger in his face. "Did you really think that I would never want children one day?"

Erik flared. "I hoped that we would have time for a discussion before this ever happened!"

"And if we have gotten married and I brought the subject up, what then? You would refuse my desire to mother children? Your children?"

Erik turned away from her.

"It's irresponsible for me to have children, Alanna. No matter what it is you desire."

"Irresponsible? What, you think there's a murder gene?" She said dryly. Erik tried desperately to keep his temper in check.

"I don't know if my deformities are hereditary." He said, once he had cooled the flames of his temper.

"Was your mother deformed? Your father?" Alanna snapped. "Sometimes things happen you can't control,"

Erik ground his teeth. "You just have an explanation for everything, don't you?" He turned away from her, clenching his fists in anger.

"All I do is give, Erik! I give and you take! I gave you my heart, my body, and my soul, why isn't it enough? I ask something of you and you shut down, why can't you trust me?" She touched his arm. "Your anger is just a defense, but why are you blocking me out like this? Why do you need to defend yourself against me?"

"I don't need to explain myself to you." Erik growled, stubbornly keeping his back to her.

"God in heaven!" She swore, her voice rising. "You don't listen! You never listen!"

Erik snapped. He spun, raising his fist as he prepared to confront her. There was a horrible smack of skin on skin and Alanna fell back and hit the floor heavily. His temper receded in a wave of shock at what he had just done.

"Oh god," he said. He reached out tentatively to help her to her feet. She shied away from his hand, wiping tears angrily from her eyes.

"God, I'm such an idiot. So naïve, believing you actually changed. But no one ever changes, do they? They just get better at hiding the madness," she said bitterly. Already the bruise was forming over her left eye.

"Alanna..." He said, his voice weak. He had gone too far.

"Just go!" She yelled, getting to her feet, hiding her face behind one arm. "Go!"

Erik hesitated for only a moment before he retreated, regret heavy on his heart.


End file.
